Into The Light
by THE Chick Norris
Summary: Phoenix is the catalyst that Bella and Edward both need for the changes that will make everything work.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Twilight.**

**Much thanks to my wifey, GemmaLisax, and to Forthelongestday and SweeneyAnne for making sure I don't post crap. They are all so awesome.**

* * *

I sit in the darkened living room of Charlie's house, the glow from my cigarette the only illumination, just thinking. Thinking about the fact that's it's been nearly a year since I moved here and yet, it still doesn't quite feel like home. I'd taken up smoking and drinking wine a few weeks ago, driven by some unknown desire to have Charlie actually notice me. He noticed, he cared, just not about the smoking or the wine. He and I had spent a good two hours that night, sitting at the kitchen table talking.

** "**Bella, I don't know what to say," he'd said as he stared at the plates my mother had hung on the wall so long ago. "I've never been a teenaged girl. This might just be a part of all of that."**  
**He was uncomfortable with my blossoming womanhood. He felt just as inadequate at this as I felt at life, just as clueless. We were both lost in this quagmire of "growing up" and both of us wanted nothing more than to pass through to the other side unscathed.**  
**

** "**Charlie," I spoke quietly, "I don't think I'm normal. It's really bad. Maybe it is normal though. I've never done this either." I was so lost, felt so out of touch. I had always envisioned my life in one particular way, and things had strayed so far from the course that I'd imagined that I didn't even know if I was normal, or worthy anymore. I let out a deep breath, dreading what I was about to tell my well meaning Father. "I think I should see someone," my voice trailed off as I clarified for him, "a therapist."**  
**

He only nodded at me. It was a testament to just how much he cared that he didn't argue with me that I was in fact just going through a phase. There were stories around town about some girl that I had never met who had offed herself because she couldn't cope and I didn't want to be the next person that the town gossiped about.**  
**

That was a month ago, and here I sat, quiet strands of the blues wafting through the air, teasing my mind; making me ask myself all of the hard questions that I've been avoiding for weeks. Questions that I'd been instructed by my therapist to address in writing, painting, and journaling. Questions that I had touched on, but never fully committed to answering.**  
**

The ash fell unnoticed from the tip of my cigarette, I was completely lost in my mind. The questions played in an endless loop. Life is a series of answered questions, and right now, I was thinking that I've been answering wrong for years.**  
**

Why do you want to move to your Dad's?**  
**

Are you settling in ok?

Do you have any friends?

Are you going to college?**  
**

Will you go to dinner with me?

Do you understand?

Can you possibly love me?**  
**

Will you marry me?**  
**

No, none of the questions have right or wrong answers, just somewhere along the way they got all mixed up and now I'm sitting in a dark room, burning my fingers to put out my cigarette as I wonder where I fucked up.**  
**

Edward Cullen. The much talked about, and little understood, gorgeous new kid. He was a part of what appeared to be a close knit family of gorgeous new kids, with glamorous parents and the ability to ignore the fact that everyone in the town was talking about them.**  
**

Initially, I had been just as fascinated by their constant detachment from everyone else in the school. Never having had siblings, I just attributed their closeness to a very strong sense of family and the old adage that blood was thicker than water. It's laughable now, that I thought that. Now that I know about them.**  
**

It didn't take Edward long to get to know me. We were assigned to sit next to each other in Biology class. After a false start, he saved my life twice in rapid succession, only to spill his secret and ultimately condemn me to a death, of sorts. At the time, I didn't mind at all. I was happy, or what I thought was happy. I was loved and wanted. As I spent more and more time with Edward and his family, I grew further and further away from Charlie, and from the other teenagers in this town that had befriended me.**  
**

The air reeks of stale smoke and the wine that I spilled last night when the questions got to be more than I could handle sober. I contemplate pouring another glass of the tart red wine that Charlie bought in a box last week to impress his current love interest, but that would require me getting up and at least rinsing out a plastic solo cup that is all we have to drink from. Instead I shake another cigarette from the box and wonder how many more I have to smoke before I have to face the happy blond cashier at the gas station.**  
**

I envy the overweight blond cashier her smile and her laughs. I hate her for being so satisfied with a shitty job, and for smiling at strangers. I despise her for commanding me to "Have a good day." when she has no idea that I sit in my dark living room, surrounded by empty packets of cigarettes every night and that I now go days without using my voice. I'm beginning to believe that the therapy is making me worse, but maybe it's just the fact that I'm a non-compliant patient that won't follow through with the recommendations that my therapist gives me.**  
**

My phone stopped ringing two months ago, after we all got back from Phoenix. It was the third time that Edward had been forced to save my life. I don't know why he and his family even bothered since my integration with them was like a death warrant. During the "getting to know you" phase of mine and Edward's relationship, I had stumbled across the fact that my new boyfriend was different.**  
**

The brief inadvertent touches of his cold hand, the changing eye colors, it had all set off a burning curiosity in me that wasn't satisfied until it was too late. It was a bonfire with ghost stories that had educated me, not Edward. I should have been mad that he didn't tell me himself, but even in my current funk I realized that had he told me then, "Bella, I'm a vampire" I would have run from him, thinking him crazy, and set into motion a series of events that would have led to my untimely death.**  
**

Instead, I dove into the local lore. Research, the never failing friend of the friendless, had confirmed every single story that I'd heard at the bonfire about "The Cold Ones" and I had stupidly confronted Edward alone.**  
**

** "**I know what you are," I'd told him with shaking hands, staring into his bright golden eyes. His eyes never lost the softness that they held whenever he looked at me as he used his super-human speed to blur around me, a feeble attempt to frighten me away. I had already figured out his big secret, and I wasn't afraid. His demands that I say the word didn't frighten me. Nothing he could say or do would frighten me, so strong was my desire to be wanted, needed, loved. It was then that he told me about Singers. I was his Singer. It was laughable, really, given that I was nearly completely tone deaf. That day I learned that my blood could do what my voice never could; my blood was like the call of a Siren to him.**  
**

I stopped calling almost two weeks ago, deciding that it was time that I stop being so dependent on others for my happiness. I hadn't even heard from Alice, Edward's sister, and the only Cullen other than him that I considered myself to be close with. His abandonment, I could nearly understand. He was almost as fucked up as me in the head. It was the loss of communication with Alice that troubled me at times like this. I knew that she was just like him; that she was a Vampire and that my blood was my biggest draw to her. But Alice had never made me feel that way. She had always made me feel as if my company was the reason that she wanted to be around me. Though I allowed her to treat me as a dress up doll at times, just to ensure that she liked me and stuck around; I never felt that had she known the true me she would have left.**  
**

I guess that I had misjudged my friendship with Alice, perhaps she had come to covet my blood and humanity just as much as Edward had. My therapist was continuously advising me that I needed to accept the fact that it was impossible to please everyone all of the time and that my attempts at doing so were simply alienating the people that truly cared about me. I had written about fifteen really bad poems about the feeling that I got when I knew that someone didn't like me. They made me laugh now, though I was still able to relate to the feelings.**  
**

I had hoped that during the time in Phoenix, when Alice and her husband Jasper were so focused on protecting me, we had all become friends. I had felt their eyes on me, and though I couldn't hear the conversation between the two of them, I'd imagined that they were really worried about the state of my emotional health. I suppose I would never really know what it was that they talked about while I lay in bed curled into the fetal position crying. I imagined long conversations between the two of them regarding my mental health and what I would need to feel from them to gain back some security with my humanity. I imagined them professing their love for one another and cursing my existence because it meant that they couldn't freely act on the desire that they felt.**  
**

I had grand ideas by this point in my infatuation with Edward Cullen, ideas that I assigned to the behaviors of Alice and Jasper. I imagined them to be so wrapped up in one another that the rest of the world faded away; that I became nothing more than a hindrance to their desire for one another. The little therapy that I had endured had educated me enough to know that there was no such thing as the fantasy world that I was imagining; there was no "perfect" love.**  
**

I stared down at the blank journal page in my lap. It was begging me for some grand revelation that I couldn't give it. It desperately wanted me to admit what my subconscious had already surmised. I didn't want to put it to paper. I didn't want to write it, or sketch it, or admit to myself that I had been tainted by Hollywood and Disney to expect that love was a simple matter of "he loves her, he protects her, and she has only to accept everything without question."**  
**

My hand moved of its own volition and I began to sketch. I am not gifted with the ability to draw things, my gifts lie with the written word but I was unable to put to words the epiphany that had just occurred to me during my mind's stroll down memory lane. Every feeling that I had felt during the courtship between Edward and myself came rushing to the surface of my mind. I compared our relationship to that of Alice and Jasper and found it lacking.**  
**

Where Alice seemed so happy and fulfilled, I nearly always felt that I was stamping down my thoughts and opinions in order to align them with Edward's and keep him happy. I was clinging to him; needing his approval for every aspect of my life. Only giving myself some sense of justification and validation if my thoughts aligned with his. And as I sketched out the abstract lines that reflected this, I realized that it wasn't true. I realized that I had assigned the task of validating my own personal thoughts and beliefs to the men in my life. It was a grand revelation that was interrupted by a knock on the front door.**  
**

It's one of the reasons why the knock surprised me; the other being that no one ever came to see Charlie and I. The interest that he bought wine for left when she discovered my existence, and Edward and his family stopped coming to visit after the disastrous time in Phoenix. I stare in the direction of my door in disbelief, listening to it vibrate in the frame from the force of the second knock. I take another drag, and crush out my cigarette while the door frame threatens to collapse from the knocking. Stumbling through the darkness, I grope for a light and blink at the pain its sudden illumination sends my eyes. I have no idea how long I've been sitting here in the dark.**  
**

I ran my hand through my hair as I walked across the living room floor, carefully avoiding looking at the pictures of Edward and I that Charlie had placed along the mantle of the fireplace. The still images of two happily smiling teenagers would have mocked me as I crossed the room and given my current state of mind, I didn't need the mocking. I was annoyed that the pounding at the door had interrupted what could be one of the most important realizations of my short life.**  
**

** "**Chill out, I'm coming," I croak with my ill used voice as I throw the locks. I think it's been three days since I spoke. Charlie knew that I'd been cutting school freely, and had apparently spoken to both my therapist and the school's administrators to accommodate me. Every so often, I would find assignments lying on the kitchen table for me to complete. I opened the door with my eyes cast down, not really caring anymore if it's one of the dreaded home invaders you hear about on the news. Maybe it will be one of them. I can throw up my hands, halfway protest as they simply rape me and beat me into oblivion.

Yeah, maybe it will be them.**  
**

A glimpse of the perfectly polished black cowboy boot standing a foot from my doorway seems to laugh at the disappointment I feel to not have a gun pressed to my forehead. I raise my eyes, following what I once would have thought to have been very attractive jean clad legs attached to the boots. It's Jasper, Alice's husband; but I see a vampire cowboy with hungry looking eyes and a somber expression staring back at me.**  
**

** "**Bella?" he asks with a rough, but quiet voice that belittles the struggle that I know he's facing at simply standing there and not draining me of my life-giving force. I'd spoken to Alice about Jasper's past and knew that he faced great personal trials of his self control at simply being in the same room with me. I couldn't help but wonder if he was the emissary of death sent to me from the Cullen family. "Bella, can we talk?" he asks me, even as his rapidly darkening eyes give me a different reason for his visit. He constantly shifts from foot to foot, and I recognize this a habit borne of his years of preying on people just like me. He doesn't need to shift, but it makes him appear lost, and endearing.**  
**

I take a fearful step back from the door, forgetting for an instant Jasper's gift, and the fact that my actions will only make this encounter harder for both of us to get through with our lives unscathed. There has never been a doubt in my mind that Jasper was the perfect predator. While hearing from his family members how dangerous he was, I had always felt extremely comfortable around him; even after I learned that making me feel that way was an illusion of his gift.**  
**

** "**Hello Jasper," I greeted him with a flourish of my hand inviting him into the house. I made no rush to hide my journal, or to make excuses for the slovenly appearance of myself or the house. Jasper was an empath. He was able to gather all of the information that he needed to deal with me before I ever even opened the door. I motioned to a seat, "Take a seat." It was an unnecessary bit of speech, but I was still trapped in my human nature, even if Jasper wasn't.**  
**

** "**I'd like to speak with you Bella," he said as he stared at the mess that surrounded him. I should have been embarrassed at the state of the house, but I hadn't gotten that far in my therapy, and right now I just didn't give a shit. I hadn't invited Jasper to come over. He could deal with the refuse that was such a part of my every day's existence.**  
**

I nodded at him and sat back into the seat I'd occupied before he knocked on the door. Placing my journal in my lap, but still not bothering to close it, I stared at Jasper. His eyes were nearly black, and I had heard the stories of his poor impulse control. It was nearly a suicide attempt to sit here with him in this state, but I was so far beyond caring what happened to me that I simply settled back into the sofa.**  
**

** "**Bella, I'm very worried about you," Jasper shared with me in a tone that should have sounded very condescending. I was surprised that it didn't coming from him. I had only spent time around him in Phoenix, avoiding death, and I wasn't sure if he was actively manipulating my emotions, or if he was truly genuine in what he was saying to me. I simply continued to stare at him. After giving me some time to think about his words, he continued, "I've been watching you, sampling your emotions from the first day that Edward brought you to visit. I have concerns, Bella, that things aren't the way you perceive them to be. I'd like to help you."**  
**

He worried with his hands as he spoke to me; knotting his fingers together while staring at them and completely avoiding eye contact with me. It wasn't until a few minutes after his last words to me that he raised his eyes to look at me.**  
**

** "**Bella, will you please let me help? I know you're seeing a therapist, I just think," he paused and sort of waved his hand halfheartedly, "I can help you as well."**  
**

I watched the wrinkles that appeared in his forehead as he tried to think of the right words to speak; the way he wrenched his tangled fingers back and forth as he asked my permission to ensure that I died with the most personal clarity available to me.**  
**

** "**Jasper, does it really matter?" I asked, "I mean, I'm gonna die in the end, one way or the other, right?"**  
**

His eyes were sad as he raised them to look at mine, but his face was expressionless. He didn't speak but suddenly, I was flooded with an overwhelming sadness. I was overwhelmed with feelings that cycled so rapidly, and through such varying emotions that I could barely identify them before they changed. I simply sat there; staring at Jasper as he shared his explanation of his motivation for wanting to help as best as he could. So many emotions cycled through the two of us; him constantly sharing his with me. One emotion that was constant; one that never changed was love.**  
**

It wasn't the love of fairy tales; or even the love of tragic romance novels. It was a subtle love, filled with affection. It was the most difficult emotion to identify, of all of the emotions that he shared with me. I had a firm grasp on anxiety, hate, loathing, hunger, desire, annoyance; it was that deep familial love that was so foreign to me. I stared at him in confusion as he bombarded my senses with this foreign love. It was unyielding. I felt so unworthy to receive such an unencumbered form of affection, yet he continued to force it upon me. Slowly a small smile showed at the slightly upturned corners of his eyes that I couldn't refuse.**  
**

** "**Jasper, where did that come from?" I asked him as the first genuine smile that I had felt since moving to Forks broke out on my face. My smile was answered by one of his own. It illuminated his face. I could finally see the beauty in him that Alice had always spoken of. His smile was beautiful.**  
**

** "**I have quietly watched since your first day at school. Alice told me that you would be an important strand in the fabric of our family and so I watched. I simply shared with you a small portion of the way people feel when you are around." His speech was tainted with the smile that he couldn't seem to rid himself of. I hadn't seen him smile so much before. "I want to help. I know that you are at a crossroads and I think that I may be able to help you. Will you let me?" His voice was nearly pleading with me; begging me to let him redeem himself to his family through assisting me with these personal problems that seemed to be consuming me.**  
**

I saw the hope in his eyes. I knew the way that Edward spoke of him being the black sheep of the family; and the way that Alice seemed to adore him regardless of his faults. It was based on their impressions of him that I nodded my agreement. I didn't know the man sitting before me, but I didn't know myself either. I was going to die regardless, and I didn't feel any hint of foreboding fall upon me as I agreed, with a nod, to allow Jasper to help me wade through the difficult task of finding myself and becoming confident enough to believe that my desires and wants were worthy of attention.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I still own nothing. Thanks for reading, and I appreciate reviews.**

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To say that Jasper was different from my therapist would be the understatement of the century. He was demanding, overbearing, and not very forgiving if I attempted to skimp on the activities the therapist thought would be beneficial for me. He took every suggestion from the therapist as seriously as any zealot and forced the activity on me with an equal zeal. He pushed me to fill my journal; to talk with him about what was in there. He called me out when I lied. He was exactly what I needed.

I still missed Edward and Alice. It was difficult not to since they had been such a large part of how I had defined myself since coming to Forks. I couldn't get past the fact that Edward hadn't bothered to try and see or call me. I didn't understand it, but I shouldn't have been so surprised after our last conversation with one another. Jasper had begun bringing me greetings from Alice when we would meet, but I still had no word from Edward. I wasn't an idiot, and I knew that this was another one of Jasper's sadistic tricks to make me come to some sort of grand realization. What Jasper didn't realize is that on the day he came asking to help me, I had begun to admit to myself exactly what it was that had driven me into this vast darkness of self loathing.

It wasn't that Edward was the entire problem. He was just a small part of it, and my inability to validate my own thoughts and emotions had fed the problem until it came to a head in Phoenix and I was dropped into this confusion and unhappiness at my current state of being. I was still unhappy, just not nearly as confused and that was a testament to both my therapist and Jasper. They both pushed for the answers that only I could provide.

"Tell me about it Bella," Jasper said as he pointed at the scribbles on the most recently filled page of my journal. His keen eyes followed every line, and he seemed to be hearing the lines speak as he took them all in. I wondered why I should even reply, he was so good at just knowing what answer or question was posed on the page. He raised his eyes to mine, waiting on me to speak and I knew that I'd not have another alternative.

"I feel like I've been doing what's expected, regardless of my own wants," I answered. "This," I gestured to a line that was nearly completely covered by the dark shadows of the images in the foreground, "is what I want and everything that's blocking it, that's what everyone else wants."

It seemed so childish. To think that I couldn't adequately express my own simple desires, but it wasn't something that had happened overnight. I had been shaped into this pliable, spineless being through years of watching Renee act in much the same way. Despite her attempts at appearing enlightened and modern, she was so stuck in a 1950s mentality regarding her role as a woman that it really is a miracle that I can even function in less than a cocktail dress. For years I watched as Renee reinvented herself, molding her new self around whatever her current love interest desired her to be.

I emulated her as I molded myself to become whatever she wanted me to be. I became the caregiver, so that she wouldn't have to appear to be a domesticated woman conforming to the wishes of society. I took self improvement classes with her so that the two of us would look like a perfectly female version of a hipster family to the gallery owner that she dated for six months. I went to Weight Watchers with her and learned an entirely new way of preparing meals so that we would appear to be conscientious of the new rules of healthy dietary habits for that doctor that she dated for a year.

Even after moving to Forks, I couldn't break the mold in which my mother had shaped me. I became what Charlie wanted me to be. I threw myself into my school work, and did a very good job at pretending to be a stereotypical small town teenager, until I met Edward. Charlie was worried nearly immediately at my apparently sudden change in personality, and while he should have been worried, that sudden change was my personality. Charlie hadn't witnessed my ability to morph and rapidly change who I was in order to gain the most acceptance and approval from those around me but he knew Renee and shouldn't have been surprised that she was able to shape me into a younger version of herself.

Edward had been captivated by me. I knew now that it was the call of my blood that kept drawing him to me, but at the time I was so flattered to have such an attractive boy interested in me that even after he admitted that fact to me, I was still striving to be who he wanted me to be. He was, like me, a victim of his parentage. He had modeled himself after his own father, and even after so many years under Carlisle Cullen's accepting influence, he still held firm the beliefs and values of his father and his era. I admired him for his steadfast nature, given that Renee had never shown me the stability and firm belief system that Edward possessed.

Edward's beliefs were from a different era and I became even more like Renee. I stopped attempting to anticipate what would make Edward happy and waited on him to simply tell me; stopped considering my own wishes and desires and focused solely on him. He was allowed to make all of the decisions, and I rarely argued with him. Occasionally, I would offer my opinion only to have it disregarded and discounted for not aligning more closely with his. In my mind, it was all a part of the dance of courtship; just another ritual involved in the building of a relationship. He wasn't trying to demean me, and I still don't believe that he realized exactly what he was doing. Like me, he was an inexperienced child playing at a grown up game with extremely high stakes. It didn't lessen what we each felt to have our inexperience working so strongly against what we both wanted.

"He's working on things too," Jasper said with his now familiar voice, breaking me out of my reflections. I had listened so many times to him discussing with me the matching and mismatching of the emotions that he was feeling from me and the words that I was saying that this simple statement shocked me. It was the first news of Edward that I had been granted and I inhaled sharply wondering what exactly Jasper meant. He must have felt the curiosity rolling off of me in waves because he didn't pause before explaining what he meant. "Edward. He knows that what happened in Phoenix, it wasn't healthy. He doesn't want to be that way."

I could feel the burning in my eyes and I knew. I struggled against it, but wasn't surprised to feel the warm drop of a tear spilling onto my cheek. I didn't cry, there was only the one tear and it was there because I was so touched. I couldn't imagine anyone caring enough about what I wanted and needed to endure the pain that I now knew came with deep self-reflection. I never doubted that Edward cared for me, maybe even loved me. It was the stupid behaviours that the two of us had learned as we were preparing ourselves for this level of emotion that had led us to the place that we now were. I nodded slightly at Jasper as he ignored the lone tear that snaked its way down my cheek to fall onto the page of my journal.

"You have to understand, this is a much more difficult process for him. We can't change our natures as freely as humans," Jasper explained to me. I knew this; it was one of the many excuses that I used to justify ignoring my own wishes to bend to Edward's; I was human and could still change. He sat back in his chair, stretching his long legs in front of him and crossing the boots that he was never without at the ankle. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he turned to study me much more closely than he had been previously. I was now the recipient of that analyzing gaze that he normally reserved for my journal. "I want to talk about Phoenix," he declared quietly.

I immediately began to shake my head in answer to him, feeling the panic bubbling up at the thought of spilling such intimate details to Jasper. He didn't attempt to calm me, it wasn't how we worked. He simply let the panic build, morph into the despair and the worthlessness that was such a part of the disaster that happened in Phoenix. I began to rub the bite that marred my wrist, as I always did when thinking of Edward or that trip. The coolness of the skin beneath my fingertips felt foreign. It was, but it was also a part of me now; a reminder of not only how close I had really come to death, but a promise of what the future held for me. I closed my eyes and focused on inhaling and exhaling; that calm soothing exercise that has been helping people with the redirection of brain power for many years.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and turned to face Jasper, my fingertips still lightly grazing that cooler part of my body that was a predecessor of the changes that were an inevitable part of my future. I met his gaze with the confidence that I was still having to fake, and though he knew that I was manufacturing this false emotion for myself, he nodded his approval of my small victory. Though he never praised me openly for any progress that I made during our time together, I had learned to read the small human gestures that he still emulated showing his approval or disapproval. That small nod was very high praise for my ability to simply accept that I had the right to tell him no.

"I'm not ready yet Jasper, but I will be soon," I told him. I knew that discussing Phoenix would be the hardest thing that we had done, and I wasn't quite ready to expose my soul to him quite so fully. Until now, we had kept to the generic topics that I had discussed with my therapist and I knew that wading into the issues that surrounded Phoenix with their dark clouds would test both of us. Jasper would be assaulted with the full brunt of my raw exposed emotions; some of the worst emotions that I had ever experienced and I would be faced with complete and total honesty about the events that had taken place.

"Bella," Jasper said and the fleeting accent of his youth peeked through with a barely audible 'r' at the end of my name that I had never heard him say before, "I know what you're doing is hard. I've been close to where you are right now, brief flashes of acceptance about the person that you are overshadowed by the brightness of the person that you so desperately want to be. I've been there, and it's damn hard to wade through. I'm still working, but it's worth it. I've already told you once before, and I still mean it, you're worth it too."

It was one of the longest speeches that he had ever made to me, and it touched me that he saw enough progress in me to warrant it. His hands brushed to his knees and he braced himself, unnecessarily, as he stood in the perfect imitation of a human. It was scary how much more like me Jasper was than any of the other Cullens and I knew that it was a large part of what made him so much more dangerous than the others. This ability of his to read emotions and to create emotions, to perfectly tune his actions to create the most comfort in his prey, it was still mesmerizing to me and I wondered if someday I would be as good at it as him.

"Start thinking about Phoenix," he advised me as he tucked his shirt tail firmly back into place. Start thinking about Phoenix, as if the weeks of self exploration led me down any other path. Phoenix was at the end of every small trail that I blazed through my psyche. It was the beginning of my realization that things were not as they should be and that there was no such thing as white knights swooping in to save damsels that were in distress of their own making. All of my thoughts of Jasper and the smooth predatory way with which he carried himself were gone.

I couldn't focus on more than the warning that he had kindly just given me. I knew that in his pressing today, and his direction on the path that my thoughts should be taking was a hidden warning. This was Jasper's way of letting me know that it was time for the two of us to delve into the real reasons for the discontent of my life. I raised my eyes to answer him, to assure him that I would be ready, only to discover that he was already gone.

A week passed; then two, another month gone, and still I'd not seen Jasper. I was dreading our meeting and waiting anxiously for it in the hopes that with it would come more news of Edward and the progress that I hoped he was making. There were moments, during my reflections on the intimate details of my personal nosedive into worthlessness that I would soon share with Jasper, that it felt as if time was slipping gracefully through my fingers despite my attempts to hold onto it.

It wasn't that I was anxious to avoid moving onto the most difficult questions that I would have to answer, but simply that I wanted more time to test the answers that I had discovered. I wanted to be able to fully articulate to Jasper the great disparity between the way that I have behaved my entire life, and the way that I wish I behaved. I needed to fully understand how I had justified my thought processes and changed myself so readily and so often. I needed to be able to explain to him and to myself how I would be able to stop myself from once more blurring the edge that had been so clearly defined to me in Phoenix.

I shook another cigarette from the pack and simply stared at it. I had only started smoking to gain Charlie's notice, and the endless amount of understanding with which my father was handling my extremely premature mid life crisis proved that he noticed. He had dealt with my tears, my mood swings, and the undeniable effort that it took on some days for me to merely emerge from my room. He had cut back on his hours for a while, and the two of us began to regularly spend time together.

My therapist assured me that Charlie's actions were those of a concerned parent and in no way an attempt to meddle in my life. I didn't correct the therapist's assumption that I was bothered by Charlie. The simple fact that my father had taken note of my unhappiness and my dance along the edge of the deep and dangerous pit of depression and that he had changed his lifestyle to be what I needed spoke volumes to the little girl in me that was still desperately seeking his approval and love.

It made me slightly sad that Charlie and I were suddenly developing an amicable relationship centered around our appreciation for each other given how much greater my loss would be to him now. I knew that the day would come when I would have to leave him and meet my fate. I would miss Charlie, and spent a good deal of time writing in my journal about the evenings that we had begun spending together. This was an inevitable part of growing up; leaving the nest and flying for the first time, but I knew that I would have to do it long before I grew tired of Charlie's parenting.

I put the cigarette back into the package, my desire to smoke had left me at some point over the past few weeks. It had just been another unhealthy and poor decision that I had made in an attempt to make sense out of a life I felt I had no control over. I had cut out the wine as well, but that was only after a stern lecture from Jasper about the damage that it was doing to my progress. There were moments when I could barely restrain myself from laughing at both the lunacy and irony that seemed centered around Jasper's place in my life.

I had yet to find the courage to ask him exactly what had motivated him to knock on my door that day and offer to help me purge my mind of the demons that had taken up residence there. I didn't know if I was a safe science experiment for him to play with until he had proven some point. I wasn't sure if this was a personal mission of redemption for him that resonated with tones like the very ones I was working so hard to erase from my mind. Was this his way of gaining the love, acceptance and approval that he so desperately craved from his family?

It wasn't likely that I would ever truly know Jasper's motivation in helping me but I was grateful none the less. Though he pushed me, I felt very comfortable with him. I knew that it didn't really matter to him what I said, or how I felt about anything other than my value in this world. Seamlessly, he had filled the gap in my life that the absence of his wife's presence had left with me. Somehow, throughout our exploration of the pages of my journals Jasper had become my friend. If I was completely honest with myself, something that I had begun to place great value on, he was probably the best friend I had ever had.

Jasper made his appearance nearly a month and a half after our last meeting. School had ended and I had spent the vast majority of my time delving into Phoenix. I was ready, finally, to open up with him when he showed up. I couldn't be certain that he hadn't attempted to see me before and had discounted it by sampling the confusion and hesitance that I had been wading through. It didn't matter because he was here and I was able to put into words so many things that had been eluding me.

We sat, not at the kitchen table as we had in the past, but in the living room. We didn't need the surface to slide my journal across as we discussed the warped nature of my thought processes. As I tucked my legs under me, settling into the sofa, I felt exposed without the solidity of the table before me. I wondered if this was just another of Jasper's strokes of genius when it came to getting me to open up or if it was merely my paranoia at finally admitting to another being just how screwed up my brain had been operating.

Jasper smiled, then chuckled quietly at my steadily moving hands. Movement as an expression of nerves was an entirely human gesture and I remembered that he had behaved in much the same way when he'd asked for permission to help me get to this place. The memory of his inadvertent and harmless deception stilled my nervous hand wringing, and I flattened them to my thighs. Gripping tightly, wiping the light sweat from my palms and grounding myself slightly I waited on him to speak. It was the unspoken rule of our meetings that he would be allowed to speak first and I saw no need for us to break from a pattern that had gotten us this far.

"You can calm down. I'm not gonna bite," he declared cheekily earning an overly gregarious laugh from both of us. It was good to know that I wasn't alone in this nervousness though I was positive that he was merely a victim of the strength of what I was feeling. I was terrified for us to continue. I felt I had already lost my best friend and the boy that I loved with these fucked up feelings of mine, I couldn't bear to lose more.

"Bella," he said quietly and I felt a warm wave of calm slowly wash through me, "I'm not judging. We're just going to talk, like normal." He gradually retracted that manufactured warmth from me, but in its wake I discovered a calm that was entirely of my own making. It wasn't as strong as the false warmth that Jasper had filled me with, but it was sufficient that I felt I would be able to take this journey with Jasper. "I'm not going to do that again. You don't really need me to, you just think you do." He was right, as usual. Such profound and consistent rightness would have been extremely annoying in another person, but in Jasper it just seemed appropriate.

"Phoenix," he stated simply. There was no question in his voice but there was relief and I couldn't understand if he was glad to finally have reached this point or if he was just happy that my emotions didn't go haywire at the mention.

"Phoenix was," I repeated back to him with a quiet voice, "a moment of epiphany for me." He simply nodded at me, urging me to go on. I wanted to let it all spill out at once, but that would do so much injustice to the subtle nuances of thought that I had regarding my thoughts and actions during that time so I resolved myself to go slowly with him. He already understood so much of my past and the part that my willingness to ignore my own self had played in that grand disaster.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still own nothing. Thanks for reading. Please make sure to review.**

I began slowly, talking to Jasper about my decision to leave Renee's house and come to live with Charlie. I told him how difficult it was for me to recognize that while she loved me, I was merely a third wheel in her current relationship. The memories that I carried with me from Phoenix the first time I came to Forks were coloured by the loving touches and glances that Phil offered my mother when he thought no one was looking. Like her, I wanted nothing more than to have those small gestures of love grow into a fully developed relationship and I knew that as long as he was worried about trying to win me over as well that their relationship would go the way of the countless others before it. I could see the happiness that it brought Renee, a deeper kind than any other man had given her, and so I made the decision to leave.

Jasper didn't speak, he simply sat there unmoving and listening. This was the easy part, my first exodus from Phoenix. We had danced around the edges of my reasons for leaving then so many times that I was confident that he had already gathered everything that I was saying. I continued to speak, allowing everything to be purged from my system.

I told him about my first day of school, and how uncomfortable I had been. This was where everything became fresh insight for him. He knew nothing about Edward and I, our early conversations or lack of conversations. I told him what my first meeting with Edward in that Biology classroom had done for me when paired with the overheard conversation in the office later that same day. Though I explained to him how my irrational need to please everyone around me had driven me nearly insane when coupled with Edward's apparent distaste for me, he still only nodded.

I told him about learning the secret, about how Edward's saving my life in Port Angeles and again in the school parking lot had worked together to confirm what I had already begun to suspect. Another nod from Jasper fed that seed of disquiet that had planted itself deep in my belly growing. I continued, telling him about Alice; about how much I loathed being treated like a living dress up doll and how it made me feel so unworthy. The small smile that had initially graced his face at the mention of his beloved had faded slightly as I spoke about how her attempts to show me her love and care had reinforced my belief that I wasn't good enough as I was for her brother.

"You know that isn't what that was all about Bella," Jasper admonished me slightly when I paused to wipe a tear that had fallen. I nodded because I knew. There was no doubt in my mind that Alice had truly loved me and considered me to be her best friend. Our make-over sessions were simply the best way she knew how to let me know that she cared. More tears quietly fell and I didn't immediately continue. Jasper simply waited on me.

"Sometimes Jasper, it still feels like it was," I said to him. "She's not spoken to me in a long time, and I don't know why other than I wasn't as important to her as she said." He rolled his eyes as I spoke, and I could feel the foreign frustration lapping at the edges of my hurt. He was frustrated and I didn't know why so I simply looked at him, hoping that he would explain his frustration to me. I had given him no reason for that feeling, and hadn't held back from him any of my thoughts.

"She hasn't spoken to you because of me," he clarified for me with frustration colouring his voice, "I am the reason that no one has contacted you Bella." He didn't move, and gave no indication of the weight that his words had carried with me. All of these weeks, months even, of uncertainty that I had felt, the inadequacies that had been plaguing me were his fault. My hands curled into fists that I knew I couldn't use as the weight of his words hit me.

"How dare you?" I asked him, my anger beginning to boil through my words. "You are no different than anyone else." He flinched slightly at my angry words, but a small smile ghosted across his lips and he raised an eyebrow in challenge to me.

"Oh, I'm very different Bella," he said as that overly warm, foreign calm rapidly filled me. "You know I'm different, even if my tactics are the same." I would have panicked had he left any room inside me for it but I was so filled with his calm that even my anger with him was gone.

"Why?" I pleaded with him, needing so desperately to know why I had become nothing more than a plaything for his entire family and wanting to feel my own anger burn at me.. His small smile began to grow larger and I was unable to read it; he still controlled my emotions. He laughed a low quiet laugh and clicked his tongue as he shook his head at me.

"There are just as many answers to that question as there are to the questions that you have been working your way through. Why do you think I did it?" he turned my question on me, and released me from his calm enough that I was able to focus on answering him.

I couldn't move as I thought. I was terrified of this man that had somehow become my best friend. Why would he have caused me such pain over all of this time given that we had no knowledge of one another before our journey to my self discovery began. My fleeting memories were frustrating me as I searched for some clue to his actions; some reason why he would keep me from all of the people that I loved while he gently broke me from the habits of my short lifetime. The only significant interactions that I had ever had with Jasper centered around Phoenix and it seemed that his words to me then focused on placating me into compliance with Edward's wishes. I began to shake my head as realization dawned on me..

"You didn't like my response to everything in Phoenix, did you?" I questioned him, unable to do more than stare at a bare patch of carpet that rested just in front of his feet. At my words, I felt more of his calm lift from me and my thoughts raced through the pain and the hurt of that trip. "You knew then," I accused him, "You knew how I felt and you said nothing."

I raised my eyes to him, challenging him to answer me and hoping that I was right and that there wasn't a more sinister reason for all of this pain that I had put myself through. I saw, not the smug eyes and smile that had been taunting me before, but bright golden eyes and the smile of my friend. I was still deeply hurt by his actions, and needed some sort of explanation from him about why he had done to me the very thing that had driven me to this place of uncertainty. After all of the work that I had put into developing the smallest amount of confidence in my own thoughts and emotions, I was not simply going to bow gracefully no matter his motivations.

"Would you have questioned any of it otherwise?" he asked me quietly and I was once again frustrated by his rightness. I didn't want to confirm this for him and refused to answer him opting instead to simply stare angrily at him. Frustration coloured his voice once more as he asked, "Do you have any idea how long forever is?" There was a long pause as I still refused to answer him. He ran his hands down his face and blew out a long breath before he began speaking to me.

"I didn't do it for you Bella. I did it for my brother," he finally admitted so quietly that I at first I wasn't sure if he had spoken or if I had simply imagined the words. His voice was louder as he continued his explanation, "He loves you so much, but is so lost and confused about what to do with it. He needed this time. I wouldn't want either of you stuck in that pattern for eternity."

"That doesn't explain Alice," I quickly accused Jasper. I refused to let him slide neatly off of the hook for this with a few simple, kind words and so I pushed him to explain himself, just as he had been pushing me to delve deeper into the reasons behind my behaviours. I wanted his manipulation of the situation to have been for the good of Edward and me. Despite all of the work that I had done I realized that I didn't always know exactly what was best and couldn't see things as clearly as someone on the outside may see them. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt and I needed him to answer my accusation.

"Alice suffered but it was her decision," he replied and I shook my head because he was contradicting himself. I pointed at him and began to sputter out an accusatory reply but he held up his hand and continued speaking, "She made the decision after my first conversation with Edward. I don't question her gift, just as she doesn't question mine. It was my suggestion to Edward that he limit contact with you in order to work on himself that drove her decision to do the same for you both."

Fury like I had never felt before welled up inside of me and Jasper laughed as my hands began to shake with it. The audacity that he showed sitting there and encouraging me to delve into the darkest places of my mind while manipulating me continuously fueled my anger. Yes, there had been wonderful things that had come from my realizations and I would be thankful for those for the rest of my life. But it was my history of being manipulated, either intentionally or not, by others that had brought me to where I now sat. I struggled with myself. I could understand his reasons, and logically believed that there was good reason for the rift that had been created between myself and Edward. I knew that if Edward was working as diligently as me that there would be even more good to come from Jasper's interference. But once again, I hadn't been given the choice.

It was the potential for the good to come that kept me from surrendering to the anger. I wanted so desperately to scream at Jasper; to call him names and berate him. I knew that such actions would be laughable to him, and could flip that switch that he so carefully guarded when he was around me. I had seen glimpses of his predatory nature, and I had also seen his willingness to deny those impulses as I muddled through our time together. I was so hurt and angry, that I missed the complete irony that it was Jasper that I had finally decided to show this new change in attitude to. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and began speaking with a vehemence that he had yet to hear from me.

"None of you get to decide those things for me Jasper. Not even Alice and her gift can do that anymore." I turned my head from him, my eyes now staring out of the window as I contemplated how I would continue this conversation with him. I was determined that the two of us get through this conversation about Phoenix. I had waited too long, and depended too much on how others viewed me and this afternoon, with Jasper's confession to his role in all of this, I had resolved to end it. Never again would any of them get a free pass to make decisions for me or on my behalf.

"When I finally woke up in Phoenix, after what should have been the real nightmare had passed, I was gripped with a terror unlike any that I had felt with James. Running from James was scary to me for all of the wrong reasons," my words were rushed and I was jumping backwards and forwards in time with the events. They were blurring together into a stream of irrational feelings and impressions and I couldn't stop it. At that moment, I was not concerned with rationality, I simply wanted to let it out. Jasper would be able to recognize all of the realizations that I'd had.

I poured out to him the things that had run through my thoughts and dreams during our car ride to Phoenix. I explained how I saw the actions that he and Alice had taken; how tainted my interpretation of everything had been. I condemned him for not understanding the depth of fear that I had when I realized that I was slowly surrendering myself to everyone around me.

I grew louder and louder as all the pain and agony poured from me. I laid everything out for Jasper as I sobbed my way back and forth from the empty field that night James first saw me to my hospital bed in Phoenix.

"I was so very afraid that he would leave. I refused Renee. It was the first time she had ever offered to do something less than selfish for me and I blew her off because I was so terrified that he would leave me," I was nearly screaming the words, they were so anxious to get out of me.

I took a moment, my breathing having become too rapid in my attempt to just get everything out. Jasper still hadn't spoken, and I didn't expect that he would interrupt my thought process at this point. I shook my head a little, disturbed that I could so vividly recall everything. I could relate to the hurt of the emotions that I was yelling at Jasper about but couldn't find it in myself to actually feel them anymore. It was surreal, saying nearly nothing and so much all at the same time.

"Jasper, did you realise that losing Edward was the only motivation that I had in Phoenix? Did you, any of you, even grasp that I would have done anything at that point in time just to make sure that he stayed with me? Even sacrifice myself."

My questions were purely rhetorical, and he made no move to answer me. I chanced a glance back at his face and saw that he still wore that impassive mask that had fallen into place as I began spilling my guts to him.

"I love him, but I need to be me. I have to be able to say no to him and have him hear me. I can't resign myself anymore to his desires always outweighing mine. I know that he means well, that he acts out of love," my voice was trailing off and I found myself slumping slightly with the exhaustion of my purge. "but, he has to let me make my own mistakes even if I get hurt and he doesn't agree with me."

Silence filled the space as Jasper thought about all of the things that I'd just said. I was certain that it was nothing more than the words that he had been aiming for from the very first day when he asked to help me. I wasn't sure if he truly understood just how hard it had been for me to admit that, regardless of the depth of my love for Edward, I would have to start listening to myself more than to others. I hoped that the conclusions that I had reached hadn't led me to a place that had no room for Edward.

Still Jasper didn't speak and I fell back into the habit of thinking that I had done something, or had through my very opinion about things finally driven them all away. Through my screaming and tears, my railing against the actions of a little boy that I so desperately wanted to grow up into a man and the realization that play acting with love wasn't going to be enough to make that happen, Jasper had sat silently. He watched me with a predator's eyes, taking in my every movement and discerning every nuance in my speech.

Through the silence came a certain peace. It wasn't of Jasper's making, but it filled me in that same gradual way that his false emotions did, it was too subtle, not defined enough to have come from him. As I rested deep in the cushion of the sofa, I allowed this peace to consume me. It was a beautiful feeling and I hoped that it was growing strong enough that Jasper was able to feel a small portion of it. Though the tears were still damp on my cheeks, I smiled. My smile grew, and I laughed quietly finally feeling truly free of the smothering emotions of unworthiness that had nearly devoured me.

"I am good enough," I turned to Jasper, opening my eyes and firmly stating, "but I will never be perfect." It wasn't until I'd made that statement that Jasper allowed his face to change. He smiled fully at me, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes," was all that he said to me. He leaned toward me, and wrapped me in an extremely awkward hug. It was the highest praise that I could have ever expected from him, personal contact. It didn't matter that he was squeezing too tight and that it felt more like being in the death wrap of a python, it was just as far outside of his comfort zone as my emotional purge had been for me.

This uncomfortable hug was Jasper's way of letting me know just how proud he was of how far I had come. I was under no illusions that my work was complete. It was very easy for me to believe that I had truly changed my approach to the opinions of others without having my resolve tested. I knew that the real test would come if and when I ever saw Edward again.


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for taking so long to get this out. Life happened, and somewhere along the way I lost the original chapter 4. It was supposed to have been from Edward's POV, but Bella wasn't ready to turn over the story to him yet and so in the re-writing process, you get this. The next chapter should back-track a little and let us know what the hell he's been up to. As I'm sure is obvious by now, this story isn't for the faint of heart and this chapter is no different. This is a fairly short chapter, but I felt that it was necessary for the story. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think. The words and mistakes are mine but that's all. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

_**Refresher from the last chapter…**_

_"I am good enough," I turned to Jasper, opening my eyes and firmly stating, "but I will never be perfect." It wasn't until I'd made that statement that Jasper allowed his face to change. He smiled fully at me, his eyes twinkling._

_"Yes," was all that he said to me. He leaned toward me, and wrapped me in an extremely awkward hug. It was the highest praise that I could have ever expected from him, personal contact. It didn't matter that he was squeezing too tight and that it felt more like being in the death wrap of a python, it was just as far outside of his comfort zone as my emotional purge had been for me._

_This uncomfortable hug was Jasper's way of letting me know just how proud he was of how far I had come. I was under no illusions that my work was complete. It was very easy for me to believe that I had truly changed my approach to the opinions of others without having my resolve tested. I knew that the real test would come if and when I ever saw Edward again._

* * *

The lightness that I'd felt after my purge with Jasper carried me through the next few days and I spent the time deeply cleaning the house of all of the filth that was a reflection of what I thought I deserved. Charlie didn't make any remarks about the changes in those days but he watched me in his silent way and I knew that he was happy to see that I was doing something that should have been normal but was most likely just a distraction from everything that I'd been through. I continued writing in my journal during these days when I felt more like a happy normal teenager, though my euphoria at having finally released everything that had happened in Phoenix screamed at me that it was no longer an activity that was strictly necessary.

That feeling was wrong.

As more days passed from that awkward hug with Jasper with nothing more from him or any of the Cullens, I began to hear the whispers of my former self echoing through my thoughts at times when I least expected to be plagued by such self-loathing. They would ghost through simple thoughts such as appreciation for the way a certain nail polish looked on my fingernails. When I first heard them, it was easy enough to ignore them as phantoms of a lost girl that had no place inside of a confident woman but they were persistent. They grew louder as time went on and I was afraid of the direction that they were encouraging me to take.

I wrote more in my journal because I wasn't sure how else to fend off their attacks, attempting to explain these feelings of worthlessness that I was fighting with all of my might. Each time that I convinced myself that my last words to Jasper were true; these whispered thoughts would solidify and confront me. If I was good enough then why hadn't I heard from anyone? It grew harder and harder to not listen to them and believe their toxic words.

More than a month passed and I grew fearful that even with my continued visits with the therapist and my journaling that I would once again find myself in that place of darkness. For now, it was only a dim thing in my psyche, like when clouds roll in on a spring afternoon. Those clouds were beginning to lose their benign, fluffy whiteness and to darken. A storm was building within me and I didn't have anywhere to take shelter. I knew that if these feelings grew to fruition that I would most likely be lost forever and the thought both thrilled and terrified me.

I started smoking again.

I stopped seeing my therapist, telling Charlie that I had been cleared to continue with my new life tools without the intrusion. Charlie watched me closely throughout this time and it was obvious that his concern for me was beginning to grow in perfect harmony with the darkness that was growing within me but he trusted my assurances that I was ok. He cut back his hours once more, and we restarted our nightly dinner routine of talking with one another while we brought the kitchen back to order. Mundane conversations about our lives and the weather were taking the place of the much more important conversations that we should have been having. I fed Charlie what I needed to in order to keep his concern at bay. The plates from my mother were still on the walls, and one night after the last dish was put away I finally called Charlie on their intrusion into our lives.

"Why are they still up?" I asked him, gesturing slightly with the dampened dishtowel that I held in my hand.

His eyes followed my hand and I saw the brief flicker of pain cross his face as he thought about my question. There was a hint of regret within me at causing Charlie pain but it was true what they said, misery does love company and I was ashamed that I also felt satisfaction at seeing his hurt. The beast of my darkness swelled and though I knew just how wrong it was, how unhealthy these thoughts were for both of us, I relished knowing that there was another person that contained even the smallest amount of that familiar pain. I refused to withdraw my question; to dismiss it would bring Charlie relief and the two warring sides within me drew their battle lines. He sank into one of the chairs at the table, his eyes still locked on my mother's plates. He was fighting with himself, and the part of me that so desperately wanted everything to be ok for both of us hoped that he would be able to explain his reasoning behind keeping something that so obviously caused him pain.

I crossed the room to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. I sat one in front of Charlie, and took a seat at the table before opening mine. We were mirror images of each other as we sat suffocating in the silence that my mother's memory was imposing on us, drinking our beer. It was a dangerous silence.

"We got them on our honeymoon," Charlie finally whispered as he stood and retrieved more beer for us. "I've always hated them."

His words made no sense and I didn't stop to think about my actions, didn't wonder at how what I was going to do would look to Charlie or what they even meant about my current state. My darkness had shifted at his whispered confession from the dark promise of a memorable storm to a bright red haze that colored my mind. The storm that I had been waiting on was here, and I had finally lost my tight grip on what little control that I had possessed before this all began.

I slowly walked over to the wall where the plates were, my hands clenched in fists at my side. There wasn't the raging fierceness of a summer storm that I had assumed would fill me. I was calm. I was numb. I reached up, my finger grazing along the edge of one of the plates. The cool smoothness of the plate felt familiar in a way that I couldn't grasp through the greedy, consuming red haze. The calm, angry redness swelled within me at the feeling and I took the plate from its hanger and dropped it into the floor.

The dull sound of shattering earthenware barely reached me before I hurled another plate at the wall with a scream of pain and the numbness was gone. It was a visceral sound, like that of an animal locked in the vice grip of a trap with no hope of escape but death. I was that animal right now and it had nothing to do with the state of my mind and everything to do with the position which I had willing stepped into in order to gain the love and approval of a boy.

The fact that I had to die wasn't a new revelation to me. It was the fact that I had to die young in order to save others that had suddenly just pissed me off. I didn't want to be a martyr anymore. I was angry that other people and their wishes and lives and hopes and dreams always seemed to carry a greater importance to fate and the cosmos than mine ever did.

I could feel Charlie's firm grip on my biceps as he tried to stop me from ruining the plates and myself, but even his strength wasn't enough to contain my rage. The innocent question, born in a waxing and waning cloud cover of depression had turned into an all-consuming rage that refused to be tamed by reason or logic. My actions were not my own, but the actions of this overwhelming sensation of unadulterated hatred and helplessness. I lost track of the things around me, of my actions, of Charlie's reactions, of reality. Destruction was the only reality that I knew. My heart pounded in my chest and every heaving breath that I took burned my esophagus and lungs. Neither of these things slowed me. Even the dull burn of exertion that was beginning to plague the muscles in my arms didn't stop me. It wasn't until I could no longer lift my arms that I collapsed against a wall and slid down into a crouch. I should have been done, fully purged of the emotions that had poured forth in a physical path of destruction, but I wasn't. I turned it on Charlie. He was already so weakened with the concern that he had for me and his own hidden pain that he became such an easy target for me to direct everything towards. This rage within me was a seductive escape, caressing my psyche in ways that made me feel powerful in a way that lessened the relief that I'd felt after my last conversation with Jasper.

"You're an idiot for still loving her," I said and Charlie flinched, either from the nastiness of my words or the look of hatred that I had directed at him. "The two of you shouldn't have ever been allowed to procreate. I can't imagine two worse role models for a kid."

He looked so defeated by the time I'd finished speaking and I could nearly feel his relief when no other accusations from me followed. I was too far gone to know that I should stop now before I'd done more damage to my father and the relationship that the two of us had developed since I'd been here. My heart was still pounding and my breathing was still labored. As they both calmed, my body seemed to twitch with the buzzing and heady high of anticipation. The calm between us became loud and a sick and twisted smile grew on my lips as I took in the wounded look that Charlie still wore. It felt good to make him hurt now and my brain seemed to whir with all of the possibilities that were battling for prominence within me.

"Seriously Charlie," I said to my father, "did you honestly fall for her game?" I laughed when his shoulders seemed to drop and knew that I wouldn't get another answer from him. His love for my mother had consumed him in a way that I was now being consumed by this indescribable need to lash out at him. "She told me once that it was good that I looked so much like you because it was the only way she knew that you were my father."

He seemed to be folding into himself more with every hateful word that I hurled at him. The sight made me giddy and fueled my need to see him break completely. I continued to pepper him with the things that Renee had told me over the years in an attempt to be my best friend not realizing that had she just been my mother I would have adored her without question. It was wrong, and with every word, I knew that I would regret saying all of these things to Charlie but I could not make myself stop. I barely noticed when he left and I didn't stop ridiculing him and Renee just because they weren't here to hear all of the nasty thoughts that I'd collected about them over the years. I grew louder and louder, now screaming at an empty house all of the hate and abuse that I could find within the depths of this thing that had completely consumed me.

I have no idea how long I went on like that or what finally made me stop. I awoke the next morning aching from head to toe and disoriented. When I sat up, I realized that I was on the sofa and not in my bed. Evidence that my night had been a long one surrounded me. The house looked like it had been tossed by cold, detached criminals desperately searching for something. I slowly stood, and groaned at the pain that shot through my entire body. There was blood on my clothes from the plethora of cuts that littered my hands and trailed up my arms to my elbows. I carefully walked to the kitchen, avoiding the glass that appeared to carpet parts of the living room floor.

"Charlie?" I called, curious if he'd yet returned, as I stepped into the equally destroyed kitchen.

There was no answer. I edged around the kitchen, the sunlight streaming through the window touched the glass littered floor and caused it to glisten. Some of the cabinets were open and appeared empty of anything breakable. There were gouges in the walls where items had struck and taken away chunks of plaster as they had bounced off. The whole house was like this, I discovered, as I picked my way through the destruction and upstairs to get dressed. Only Charlie's room remained untouched.

I dug through the aftermath in my room long enough to find something to wear. My muscles were all screaming in protest of my every move, and I still felt extremely raw from my outburst last night: raw, and very angry. It seemed that I had passed from my self-depreciating depression and into an overwhelming mass of pure anger. The depression had been terrible, had made me feel terrible but this new thing made me feel extremely powerful. I looked around my destroyed room, at the strength of my rage and felt a little satisfaction. Where it had been so difficult for me to explain the depth of my depression, even to myself, it was very easy to see that this rage was all consuming.

I carefully made my way to the bathroom, not surprised when it was just as trashed as the rest of the house. At least the soap and shampoo were in plastic bottles and had been spared. I turned on the shower and winced as I peeled my clothes off. I was no stranger to aches and pains, but the pain I was feeling now was so much deeper than just the soreness of my muscles and the sting from the cuts that peppered my arms. This pain, this rage, it went all the way to the deepest part of me and I knew that it would be even more difficult to rid myself of than the sadness, whose place it took.

* * *

**As I said, not for the faint of heart! Leave me a review and let me know what you think about our dear Bella and where you think she's headed. I would also like to get your suspicions about Edward. We should be hearing from him next, but I haven't started on the next chapter so I guess we'll have to see! Thank you for reading!**


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